A Kidney for Dearie

A KIDNEY FOR DEARIE

A play in One Act by Catherine L. Caldwell-Harris

GRANDMOTHER/Middle-aged American woman: Elderly woman, grey hair, frumpy appearance; when onstage as "Middle- aged American Woman" she can be better dressed, more straight-forward in manner.

MOTHER/Czech woman: A woman in her mid 40s, nondescript appearance; a Czech house cleaner, speaks English with Eastern European accent

FATHER/Brazilian man: Her husband, mid 40s, nondescript appearance; Brazilian laborer, speaks English with Brazilian accent

DEARIE/Romanian girl: Their teenage daughter, 15 years old, suffers from acute kidney failure, is weak lethargic; healthy 18 year old Romanian, speaks English with Eastern European accent

BERNIE/Indian Young Man/American Man: Their brother, age 13; Factory worker in Bangalore, speaks English with Indian accent; Young American Man.

NOMUULA/Indian young woman: Thin teenager or young female of African ancestry, speaks English with South African accent; Village girl in India, speaks English with Indian accent

North American home

The present 3

Scene 1

SETTING: Living space of middle-class family, a combined living/dining area which is cluttered with consumer electronics and personal items appropriate to a family of two parents and two school- aged children. Against one wall is a home-office with stacks of papers, folders, cheap metal filing cabinets and also a cheap desk on which sits a large, somewhat out-of date desk-top computer.

The walls are bare but are covered with projections of images from the "KidneyForDEARIE" website. One shows DEARIE after she had roughly cut off her hair with scissors, holding up the blond tresses and smiling triumphantly. The caption below reads, "Dearie cuts off her hair to make wigs for children with cancer." Another reads, "Please help! 15 year- old girl needs type O kidney" and shows DEARIE in a hospital bed undergoing dialysis.

AT RISE: GRANDMOTHER, in a tattered bathrobe, is bent over the computer, hen-pecking at the keys, squinting.

GRANDMOTHER Oh my. Now that one won't work. Wife objected. (Pause) But that one found a donor. How did she? Type A. I see. Oh my. (Pause) Oh dear. Look here. (Pause) Three more answers. They are praying for us. And this one.... (Pause, then begins to intone, reading) "I saw your posting on LivingDonors.org. It is my..."

(Lighting dims and a recording is played)

VOICE OF NOMUULA (Apparently reading, stumbles a bit) It is my dream to be able to do one, two, many important thing in my life. We start a journey with one step. This is my step, my first one now. I am healthy. I do not need money or presents from you. I will do a thing, an important thing, that matters. 4 (recording ends and lighting restored with brief spot on Nomuula)

(BLACKOUT)

(END OF SCENE 1)

Scene 2

SETTING: Dwelling

AT RISE: GRANDMOTHER paces like an automaton in bathrobe, hair in disarray, She moves to-and-fro at the rear of the stage.

GRANDMMOTHER (Mutters continually in a monotone) Shouldn't do it shouldn't do it shouldn't do it.... (Repeat through-out scene)

(FATHER, MOTHER, BERNIE and DEARIE enter noisily from outside the house and put down backpacks and carrying bags with material relevant to DEARIE'S 4 hour hospital visit for her three-times-a-week kidney dialysis. There may be clothing, school books, plastic see-through bag with first-aid materials. BERNIE has a shopping bag and is removing the packaging material from a large video game console. Mother is unpacking groceries, suggesting that multiple tasks were accomplished as part of picking up DEARIE from the hospital.)

DEARIE (Apparently continuing prior conversation) So don't tell me. I don't even care. Just shave off the rest of my hair, those kids with cancer can have it all. (FATHER still distracted and doesn't answer)

BERNIE (Has sat down on the computer) GOTCHA! You're dead. Ha ha ha. Whew!!!!! (Pause, then speaks in a different, more ordinary voice, but not looking up.) She's dead anyways, you know. She even said so.

FATHER (To BERNIE) What did you say?

BERNIE (Halts his computer game and turns to look squarely at FATHER) Mon and I emailed her. (mutters) Ha ha, 5 she’s just going to get AIDS and die anyway. Get what she's got before its too late. (He makes a "capture" gesture then mimes death with a throat slash and rolling eyes, exits giggling)

(GRANDMOTHER exits with BERNIE and DEARIE; MOTHER and FATHER turn towards each other)

FATHER You emailed her? She can get a visa to come here? Because we vowed, you know, we told each other we'd never do that. We read about it, you read about it.

(Lighting fades, and the successive characters enter unobtrusively and then appear in spotlight)

INDIAN YOUNG MAN/BERNIE My boss at the factory, he said I will get full job, full time, and he would rent me for cheap my own room, I donate my kidney for his sister. I have to sign a paper that she is my cousin. I do it, I think my wife happy, but now my wife divorce me, why you not get more, she say. My neighbors laugh at me, sell your organ, are you a man? It is not right.

ROMANIAN GIRL/DEARIE All us girls, we got to live in Bucharest, in dormitories, like a college, they even gave us money for food, clothes, to go to clubs and parties. It was easy, they take out our eggs and sell to British and French women. But the drugs were too strong for me, and they kicked me out. I was glad, no more clinic. Then I hear one egg is sold for $10,000, and from me they take 35 eggs for one time.

MIDDLE-AGED AMERICAN WOMAN/GRANDMOTHER I was 58. I had been on dialysis for 15 years, two transplant waiting lists. Four of my friends passed away while waiting for kidneys. (Shakes head, eyes close briefly, sighs, then resumes) My doctors said I had months to live. Get a kidney any way you can, or die.

AMERICAN MAN/BERNIE I came back to the U.S. from China in full kidney malfunction when I should have been on the road to health. Had the famous long scar right here-- (Gestures to abdomen) but ultrasound showed no new kidney. I was conned.

MIDDLE-AGED MERICAN WOMAN/GRANDMOTHER So I flew to the Philippines for the surgery. They promised me full donor medical records, and I got them. I insisted I meet the men who would be my donor. A little part of him would be in 6 me, after all. He was sweet. We shared our stories. I said I would send him $100 a year -- you know, extra, from me. I try to do it when I can.

CZECH WOMAN/MOTHER Piece of my liver, sold. Something went wrong after, they didn't explain me the reason, but they made me more operation, and for it they even made me pay. (Makes money gesture with fingers) Now I still work but I walk tired all the time, I don't move the heavy furniture. My boss in Prague say no more house cleaning, now I beg on my relatives in the country. I get pain and numbness on the scar. I wish I didn't do it.

BRAZILIAN MALE/FATHER My whole life my mother sold herself, we lived in one small room for 9 people. Sell an organ, you may buy a house. They told me I get $6,000. Kidney for the work of 10 years. One man was polici Brazil military. They got the passport, airplane to South Africa. You know, I stay in Receife all my life. I want see lions, giraffes and elephants. But nothing. Not real hospital. Maybe saw the sky one time (Looks up, gestures with one finger, shakes head) I was so scared. But then very bad, (Voice breaking, starting to cry) it was finished, the plane stopped in Sao Paulo. I had the $6,000. (Pats pocket) They robbed me. I begged them, I sold my kidney for this money. 10 people need me in Receife. I show them the scar. (Lifts shirt, crying)

INDIAN WOMAN/NOMUULA The hospital was very nice. But, they are organ traffickers, it is all black market, you know. They said $3000 for my kidney and only give me $300. After, for a year I was happy. My parents let me marry my true husband with that money. Then my daughter get sick, at the clinic they said kidney failure. It was karma. The doctor laughed, You deserved that for selling your kidney. She died.

(Lights slowly rise, all organ donors/buyers are off stage, except NOMUULA remains on one side of the stage, standing silently and looking at the audience. MOTHER and FATHER are again on stage)

MOTHER I -- I do remember. But this is different. Its not organ buying. She -- you should to talk to the girl, yourself. 7 FATHER No hospital in the US would do what you're saying. For living donors there are social workers, interviews, lawyers. Even overseas, they’ll know we’re not related.

MOTHER (Nervous, tense laugh) I, I emailed and then phoned, I, uh, talked on the phone with a transplant coordinator. There are private clinics in Johannesburg, Cape Town, Durban – they are not just for the black market. We're bringing our own donor, we're not going through one of those traffickers. As far as the hospital is concerned, we're having the transplant done in Johannesburg simply to reduce the surgery and post-care costs. (She pauses, then continued hurriedly, trying to convince her husband.) The coordinator arranges the medical side, but we can have a say in choosing the hospital and even the doctor.

FATHER Isn’t that despicable just in itself. Surgery tourism! (Groaning, irate, walks around dwelling in agitation) But if only that were all it was, hiring South African doctors instead of Boston doctors. This whole thing is insane from multiple angles. We put Dearie on a plane and she comes back with a kidney sewn inside her? Just like that. What would we tell people? You say this African girl doesn't want money, that we aren't buying a kidney. Who would believe us?

(He groans, collapsing into a chair, with his head in his hands)

MOTHER Look -- uh -- first of all, She's not a girl, she's 19. Her name is Nomuula. I'm glad its South Africa, they speak English there, that'll help. The aunt is like, a nurse or maybe a nurse assistant, something, but she’s quite knowledgeable about transplantation. (Pauses, choosing her words, continue speaking without looking at FATHER) The aunt said Nomuula has a dream of having a special day...

NOMUULA I want to visit hospital, like on the TV. I like see the white sheets, sleep there. See the doctors, the nurses. Like my aunt, she sees them every day. They are the real South Africans, our heroes, saving our lives.

FATHER 8 (Barely looks up, still clutches himself, tortured) What about the paired donor program? One of us gives an organ to someone else on a waiting list where we're a match, their family member gives us a kidney? Why can't we do that?

NOMUULA Organ selling is illegal. It is also unethical. I don't want that. But I want to help. I can be special, because I can make your daughter live. And her life will be special. I will pet her blond hair when we are together in the hospital. I see in the future, she gets better, grows strong with my kidney. In my language, we call it nceda isicaka. I will help. While I am living, I will watch her grow big. She will write me letters, like a sister.

FATHER Let's just wait. Why not? Why go this crazy route? Its not right ... It's still exploitation. (He gestures around him, possibly pointing the walls) We're Americans. The walls of our home are already dripping with blood. (Sighs, head in hands) If you're going to reject the moral argument, at least be pragmatic. The so-called aunt is the backer. They'll black mail us, beg money for the rest of our lives.

MOTHER But Dearie will be alive.

(BLACKOUT)

(END OF SCENE 2)

Scene 3

SETTING: Dwelling.

AT RISE: SPOTLIGHTS on FATHER and NOMUULA.

FATHER What is nceda isicaka?

NOMUULA (Laughs gently; She is relaxed and happy now. Her tone is spontaneous and less grammatically correct than in prior, more rehearsed speeches.) Oh, you know that too? In the villages, a family lose their farm, their home, they sleep in courtyard of the rich man's house. We will cook for you. They say it every day, repeated. We will clean you house. Rich man then he say, Get out, here is money. Family look other way, say no to money. They start the garden, bring water. (She mimes the carrying of two buckets.) 9 They live in the courtyard, safe, one year, or more long time. Rich man don't have son, he get new son, the family, this happen, many time.

FATHER So we would take care of you, and all of your family?

NOMUULA (Surprised, laughs, appears to be amused) No, my friend, I not say we be nceda isicaka, I not say that. You don't listen me very clear. I help your Dearie, that my wish.

FATHER I won't be the wealthy family.

(BLACKOUT)

(END OF SCENE 3)

Scene 4

SETTING: Dwelling

AT RISE: FATHER and MOTHER have their arms around each other and as they rotate around the audience sees that the MOTHER is pummeling the chest of FATHER and crying and shrieking.

FATHER (Tries to catch Mother's hands, calm her; holds her at arms length, shakes her, looks into her face, speaks clearly and forcefully) No human life is worth more than another. Dearie may die. We'll tell Nomuula we want to adopt her into our household. She reached out to us. Her parents are dead. She'll live with us and go to school, learn English. She'll have both her kidneys.

MOTHER (Escapes from Father's hold, runs to get a packed suitcase standing by the door, speaks in anger as she crosses the room and gathers up her bags.) We're going. I have the plane tickets. They're expecting us in Johannesburg. (A honk is heard from outside, presumably the van.)

Dearie is in the van from school, Its coming here, that's it. We're going. You can't stop me. You know, you can't change the world.

(MOTHER pauses at the door as she opens it and is ready to step out. She and FATHER look at each 10 other for several seconds. MOTHER opens her mouth, is about to speak, then closes her mouth, and closes the door behind her.)

(BLACKOUT)

(THE END)